


In which Dean can't ever do things the easy way. Ever.

by spn_wincest_etc (babybrotherdean)



Series: Prompt Fills [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Dean is a master of psychological warfare, Fluff and Smut, Hand & Finger Kink, Kind of? Dean just really likes Sam's hands okay, M/M, Top Sam, and can never do things the easy way, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/spn_wincest_etc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since the Winchesters mutually confessed that yeah, being normal brothers wasn’t quite working for them, Dean’s been noticing things that he hasn’t previously allowed himself to think about. Things about Sam, specifically. Things that make it extremely difficult to focus during his day-to-day life. </p><p>There’s little things that come with their new relationship, of course- he’s allowed to stare openly, now, without being worried about getting caught, and it lets him admire Sam’s dimples, the way his hair curls slightly around his ears. The whole muscled length of him, the naturally toned look he’s gained from years of hunting. His eyes, and his nose, and his broad shoulders.</p><p>But of all things to fixate on, of everything he possibly could’ve picked- he can’t seem to stop thinking about Sam’s hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Dean can't ever do things the easy way. Ever.

**Author's Note:**

> _Can I please request something where Dean is obsessed with Sam's gorgeous, huge hands? It can be anything from Dean wanting to hold Sam's hand, even though it's girly and chick flick, or begging Sam to touch him everywhere when they have sex or make out. And maybe Sam's a bit oblivious at first, but once he catches on he actually touches Dean more without Dean having to ask? I am just all about Sam's hands, and I bet Dean would be, too. :) Thanks in advance!_
> 
>  
> 
> Anonymous request! I love Sam's hands. They're beautiful omg. This is like... all of the above? Yes. Okay. Enjoy!

Ever since the Winchesters mutually confessed that yeah, being normal brothers wasn’t quite working for them, Dean’s been noticing things that he hasn’t previously allowed himself to think about. Things about Sam, specifically. Things that make it extremely difficult to focus during his day-to-day life. 

There’s little things that come with their new relationship, of course- he’s allowed to stare openly, now, without being worried about getting caught, and it lets him admire Sam’s dimples, the way his hair curls slightly around his ears. The whole muscled length of him, the naturally toned look he’s gained from years of hunting. His eyes, and his nose, and his broad shoulders.

But of all things to fixate on, of everything he possibly could’ve picked- he can’t seem to stop thinking about Sam’s hands. 

Of course he’s seen them before. They’re the hands that patch up the wounds he can’t deal with himself, that pull him close to check for injuries. His fingers are deft on a keyboard, and at picking locks, and at handling guns.

It only starts becoming a problem when Dean actually starts to _notice_. 

Because now he’s picking up the small things he used to disregard. How gentle Sam is whenever he touches him. The roughness of his palms from years of callouses on callouses. The little tingles Dean feels whenever Sam’s fingertips brush over his skin. 

It’s incredibly distracting, and Dean finds himself daydreaming more than once about Sam’s hands, about how they feel on his skin during their encounters, the occasional contact he gets in day-to-day life. He’s starting to crave it like a junkie that needs his fix, and it’s becoming a bit of a problem.

As time goes on and he starts getting more comfortable with Sam being his lover as well as his brother, Dean decides he’s going to do something about it.

He’s not going to ask Sam outright, of course. Obviously. That’d be blackmail material for _years_ to come. He knows he has to be subtle about this, subtle enough that even Sam won’t pick up on what he’s doing. Sure, it’ll be tricky- Sam’s one of the sharpest people he knows, and it’s rare he can pull a fast one on his brother these days- but he’s damn well going to make it work. 

Dean’s plan is simple at its core, he thinks. He knows enough about psychology to have a vague idea about the power of suggestion, which he’s pretty sure just means he needs to hint at something until Sam thinks he’s come up with it all by himself. 

That’s how his little campaign of psychological warfare begins.

Maybe that’s too sophisticated a term for what’s basically a lot of meaningful looks and forced-to-be-casual gestures, but whatever.

He starts by touching Sam more often. It’s not like it’s a hardship, anyways; Dean’s always been an affectionate guy at his core, though he doesn’t often trust anyone enough to show it openly. But Sam’s the exception, just like he always seems to be for Dean’s little self-imposed rules, and it’s surprisingly easy to get in the habit he’s trying to create.

He claps Sam on the shoulder, the chest, his knee when they’re sitting down. Sam doesn’t seem to find anything odd about it until Dean starts letting the touches linger a few seconds extra, lets his fingertips slide as he pulls away.

He’s doing it now, gives his brother a grin after a successful salt and burn. “Nice shot, Sammy,” Dean says, pats him on the chest on his way by. He slows down, though, just enough to let his fingertips drag, catch in Sam’s shirt for a moment. 

It’s enough to make Sam pause, to give him a look as he turns to follow. There’s a moment of hesitation, but then Sam catches up with him, walks the rest of the way to the car in comfortable silence. 

It’s not until they slide into their usual seats that Dean gets a little reward in the form of Sam reaching over to set his hand on his thigh, squeezing gently. 

“Drinks?” he asks, and Dean grins, starts up the car. So far, so good.

-

Though the going is slow, Dean’s extremely pleased with how his plan’s coming along. The amount of contact they share has increased significantly, casual touches that could mean nothing if they didn’t mean so much. Dean’s preening under the attention, tries to resist the urge to purr every time Sam puts his hands on him. He comes close, a few times, starts pressing into the touches as they come, less shy about enjoying it now that it’s being offered.

It’s enough to encourage him to start pushing a little farther, even though he knows this part is going to be more difficult.

There’s a line between casual affection and actual PDA, which Dean can never quite decide how he feels about. He’s always torn between his general dislike of chick flick moments and how much he loves showing everyone that Sam is _his_ , that this gorgeous, perfect, brilliant man will never belong to anyone the way he belongs to his big brother.

But all it takes it another long look at Sam’s hands as they tap away at his computer before Dean’s making his decision. 

He’s honestly a little shy about it at first, not that he’ll ever admit it out loud. But the next time they’re leaving some fifties-themed diner, he shifts a little closer- as “closer” as they can get when they’re bumping into each other so often already, anyways- and makes a conscious effort to move his hand just right as it swings in a mostly-natural pattern.

It’s not a coincidence when their hands bump together, when their fingers catch for a half a second. Sam glances down at him, and Dean knows what he’s waiting for- he should laugh it off, or give Sam a half-hearted shove, or gripe and groan about Sam being a girl.

Dean doesn’t do any of these things. 

He turns his head, meets his brother’s eyes, and quirks one of his eyebrows. It’s a question, a challenge. He doesn’t miss the surprise on Sam’s face before he turns to face forward again, steps not faltering.

The next time their hands brush together, Sam catches his, interlocks their fingers. Dean’s not a small guy, but his brother is huge, and Sam’s hand feels like it’s engulfing his completely.

Dean smiles a tiny, secret smile and holds Sam’s hand just as tight.

-

Sam’s been touching Dean more than ever, and Dean is incredibly happy about it.

He’ll casually tug Dean over to look at something, set a hand on his shoulder or the middle of his back when they’re moving together, give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze to his arm or the back of his neck after they finish a hunt. 

They hold hands more often, now, too, whenever they can get away with it without worrying about getting chased out of town with a shotgun from some bigoted hick. Sam rubs circles into the back of his hand, and Dean thinks he might actually die based on the fluttery feeling in his chest when it happens.

From that point, it’s a simple matter of taking it into the bedroom, in a figurative sense. 

The sex is always intense, hot breath on skin and lube slippery between them, whispered words and moaned names and a slow, hard grind. Dean’s pretty sure he’s never had a relationship with anyone quite as good in the sack, but even still, he _knows_ Sam is holding back. He can feel it, can see it in the tension of his shoulders, the controlled way he handles things, the even pace when he’s first pressing inside.

But it’s not enough. Not when Dean knows his brother’s got so much more hidden beneath the surface.

Dean isn’t usually the type to beg on his own behalf. He’s too proud to plead for his his life, for rescue, for anything that happens while they’re on the job. He’s always considered himself above that, in a sense, but… this is different.

Sex has different rules. As soon as clothes start coming off, their dynamic shifts, Sam stepping in to take control like it’s his God-given right- and damn if Dean doesn’t let him.

Sam’s rough in bed the way he never is in real life. He practically tears Dean’s clothes off of him, would probably be yanking buttons right off it they wouldn’t be such a pain to replace. Dean’s on his back on the bed, completely naked before Sam even gets his own jeans unbuttoned, and he’s left to watch the show while his brother gets undressed.

Sam’s on him within seconds, crawls up his body and meets Dean’s lips in a hungry kiss. Dean gives just as good as he gets, presses up into his attention, spreads his legs with no hesitation to give Sam room to settle between them.

He’s not sure when Sam grabs the lube, but the prep is quick and thorough, has Dean moaning and writing on Sam’s fingers, begging him to “c’mon, Sammy, hurry up, fuck me, _please_.” It doesn’t seem like much of a burden on Sam when he complies. 

For a long couple of minutes, Dean entirely forgets about his master plan. He’s so caught up in the feeling of Sam fucking into him, filling him up hard and fast that nothing else seems to matter.

But when he realizes that Sam’s hands aren’t doing anything but clutching at the bed sheets on either side of Dean’s body, Dean decides that something needs to be done.

He moves his hands from Sam’s shoulders to his hands, grabs them tight and manages to look his brother dead in the eyes even with their ceaseless movement.

“You’ve got these, fuckin’ use ‘em,” he breathes out. “Want you to touch me, c’mon, show me who I fucking _belong_ to.”

Something changes in Sam’s eyes, then, darkens, and before Dean realizes what’s happening, his hands are moving, gripping hard at Dean’s hips before sliding upwards, tracing along his sides, pressing in hard enough to leave bruises, and Dean _keens_ , squirms with the touch, the added sensation.

Sam laughs, breathless. “Man, you can’t get enough of this, can you?” he murmurs, and Dean’s not sure which part of ‘this’ he’s talking about, but he can’t really bring himself to care, either. 

Sam sort of lets himself go after that, visibly letting go of his previous attempts to restrain himself. Dean thinks, distantly, that he’s going to be walking with a serious limp tomorrow- if at all- because Sam’s ramming into his prostate like he’s trying to break through it, and it’s hot and rough and too much and not enough all at once, and Dean doesn’t see when Sam’s hand moves, but he can feel it a moment later, closing around his cock, and-

And that’s it, Dean is _done_ , and he comes hard, arches his spine in a smooth curve as he spills between them, Sam’s name caught on his tongue. Sam isn’t far behind him, either, ducks down to bite down hard into the meaty part of Dean’s shoulder with one, two, three more thrusts before he’s reaching his climax, too.

It’s a slow, lazy finish, Sam laving his tongue over the bite wound in apology, and Dean reaches up to start petting his fingers through his brother’s hair, smiling a bit at the hum of approval it earns him. Sam pulls out, slow and careful once they’ve both caught their breath, murmurs an apology at Dean’s obvious wince.

There’s a brief cleanup, and then what Dean refuses to acknowledge as spooning when his brother curls up against his back, pulls him in close to his chest. Dean can feel Sam’s heartbeat against his back, and he closes his eyes, wonders what the next step is in his plan.

He’s distracted by the thought when Sam’s hand slides over his hip, rough fingers tracing feather-light over slowly forming bruises. Dean shivers involuntarily, presses closer, and is rewarded with a breath of laughter ghosting over the back of his neck. 

“You really like this, huh?” There’s amusement in Sam’s voice, and Dean isn’t sure what he’s talking about. His brother’s hand makes its way up to his chest, just stroking aimlessly, and Dean’s in heaven. “When I touch you?”

Oh. 

Alright, so maybe he wasn’t as subtle as he’d expected. “Yeah,” Dean admits after a few long seconds of silence. “Maybe.”

He can practically _hear_ Sam rolling his eyes. “You could’ve just said something, y’know.”

Instead of dignifying that with a response, Dean grabs his brother’s hand and weaves their fingers together. He smiles to himself when Sam grips him in return, closes his eyes and snuggles closer. 

It’s probably best that Sam’s on board with this, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm at allywriteswords.tumblr.com if you're interested in requests!


End file.
